Scissorfight

While Clutch intensify the slide to the prog/hippie end of the desert rock spectrum, Scissorfight solidify as some sort of slimy biker cousin. Rugged riffing practically pisses out its testosterone on Jaggernaut (which means "all night partier…obviously!”) and there’s an inescapable atmosphere of "deal with it or get your ass kicked” that’s as fearsome as it is admirable. Overall, that makes for a somewhat jagged record, continually slipping between boogie, straight-out metal and the occasional stoner moment. It’s almost like a sample platter of your favourite Southern-fried (despite being from New Hampshire) groove that spits in the eye of the Electric Wizards and Roadsaws of the world and their take on slinky, shifty metal. Or think of Neurosis going boogie. Now stop laughing, ’cause while that sounds hilarious, basically it means that Scissorfight have unequalled balls, blending the aggression of late Discharge, the sinister attack of Dukes of Nothing and cocky bravado of Black Label Society.